Hiring Hope
by PartiPooper
Summary: Cartman has a job interview to attend, and Kyle has worrying about him to do. (Fluffy & Smutty Kyman One-Shot; Rated M for profanities and sexual scenes.)


Kyle was roused out of sleeping by the sound of clothes rustling, the slide of drawers opening and the clunk of them closing, and heavy footfalls around the room. Groaning, he sat up in bed, so that the bed covers fell off of him, leaving him – dressed only in a light-blue overly-large t-shirt of Cartman's that read '_I have a Ph.D. (Pretty huge Dick)'_ and a pair of boxer-briefs – exposed to the morning chill of Cartman's bedroom.

"Cartman?" Kyle rubbed his bleary eyes, the collar of the shirt sliding down his shoulder with the movement. Between the darkness and bleariness, Cartman was just a shadowed blur of brunet hair, a white button-down long-sleeved shirt, and black slacks.

"The Jew has arisen." Cartman chuckled. Kyle's eyes finally adjusted and he could see his boyfriend grinning at him from his chest of drawers across the way. "Did I wake you?" he asked, actually sounding slightly apologetic. Kyle hummed in response, before stretching his arms up above his head and issuing a wide yawn. Cartman chuckled again gently, shaking his head as he looked back down to what his hands were at work on: a black tie. Seeing it paired with the rest of Cartman's attire, a light bulb went off in Kyle's head.

"Are you going for your job interview?" he inquired. Cartman had been telling him about it yesterday evening while they had been hanging out.

"Yeah. It won't take long, so I'll be back soon. Do whatever you want here in the meantime." Cartman finally finished with his tie, and went about picking up his keys and phone and shoving them in his pockets. Kyle, however, thought Cartman could have done his tie better, and so threw his legs over and off the bed and shuffled sleepily towards him.

"Your tie's crooked." he said, taking it up in his hands.

"It's hard to tie one in the dark." Cartman replied. Kyle wondered why he hadn't just turned the lights on then.

"Why is it dark anyway?" he asked while his hands worked at straightening out the tie.

"You were still asleep." Cartman answered. It was so simple, and yet such a subtly sweet thing that made Kyle's heart flip and his fingers stutter over the tie. _There _was the good in Cartman. He wasn't crazy for thinking it was there, because it _was_ there. It just took a little coaxing.

"Thanks." Kyle said, ducking his head even though Cartman wouldn't have been able to see the way his cheeks coloured in the dark anyway. He finished tidying the tie, so smoothed it out and stepped away with a smile. "There you go. Good luck."

"I don't need luck." Cartman said, "But I do need this." He reached out and grabbed Kyle's wrist in one hand, and used the other to pull him in by the waist. Kyle, knowing what was coming, closed his eyes at the same time as Cartman, who was leaning down, his face inching closer and closer until their lips met. Usually, the two of them kissed feverishly, urgently, desperately, and with purpose. But right then, in the midst of morning lethargy, they kissed slow and lazy, their tongues not even coming into play. Cartman tilted his head so that his eyelashes brushed against Kyle's cheek, and Kyle sighed contentedly, the exhale fanning out warmly against Cartman's upper lip.

Cartman was the one to pull away, but still his face remained just inches from Kyle's, so that he was close enough to see the way his pupils were dilated. "I'll see you later." he promised, his breath warming Kyle's already hot face. He closed his eyes to leave a small peck at the end of Kyle's nose, and then, with an admittedly love-sick look on his face – it was still early days in their relationship, after all, so they were still basking in the euphoria of I-can't-believe-we're-together – he let go of Kyle to retrieve his briefcase, hefted it underarm, and went to the bedroom doorway, where he proceeded to send Kyle a farewell salute before disappearing around the frame.

Kyle listened, a little sadly, to the way Cartman's footsteps descended the stairs, the way they faded as he made his way across the living room downstairs, and the way they were gone after the clack of the door opening and shutting. In a way that was too pathetic for him to ever admit having done it – not even to his super best friend – Kyle went to the window and watched Cartman walking away along the sidewalk, striding with purpose and confidence, the latter of which would most probably play a part in his job interview. Kyle didn't hope very much, for he believed that hard work would get you further than something so dependent and chancing as _hoping_; and yet, as he watched Cartman go, Kyle could do nothing _but_ hope.

All too soon, Cartman was gone out of sight, and Kyle was left to begin his spiralling descent into worry. _'What if he got the time mixed up? What if he forgot something? What if he gets lost? What if he gets nervous? What if he gets distracted by a passing cat?' _The worries became more and more absurd and ridiculous as they went on, but Kyle simply couldn't control them.

For the rest of the afternoon he tried to take his mind off of Cartman. He tried to go back to sleep, he tried to read a book, he tried to watch a movie, he tried to play games, he tried and tried and tried. But, try as he might, his efforts were fruitless, and when he finally gave in he did so by falling into a crumpled mess of listless limbs on top of Cartman's bed, and heaving a weighty sigh into the pillow.

Wearily, Kyle peered through his curls at the digital clock on the bedside table. Cartman had been gone for over half an hour. _'Did he make it there on time? Did he smile nicely when introducing himself to the interviewer? Did he act enthusiastic about the position? Did he remember the questions he wanted to ask?' _Kyle had no answers to those worries, so resorted to burying his head into the pillow and grumbling disdainfully.

For a few more minutes he laid a worried mess on the mattress, but when he could no longer stand staying there unoccupied he got up, found his jeans on the floor where Cartman had carelessly flung them last night, and put them on to go downstairs. He was intent on cooking, just for the sake of cooking, but was stopped in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room by Cartman's mother stood at a counter peeling pea pods.

"Oh, Kyle." She turned her head upon noticing him standing there and smiled warmly. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were still here. Are you hungry?"

Kyle shook his head as he stepped further into the kitchen. "No, I'm fine, thanks." He stopped beside her, anxiously rubbing his forearm as he peered into the bowl of peas. He still got nervous around Liane, even though he was pretty sure that she liked him from the way she was always so welcoming towards him, probably because he in turn was nice to her poopsiekins. Kyle would have liked to mock Cartman more for his pet name, but with bubbula being no better he had no right to.

"Are you making dinner?" he asked, deciding to fill the silence. It was awkward with Liane sometimes, since they didn't have much in common except for Cartman, and so when conversation about him exhausted they were usually stuck scrabbling for something to say.

"Yes, I just finished mopping so I decided to make a start on it, and hopefully it'll be done or close by the time Eric gets back."

Kyle spotted an opportunity for occupying his mind. "Can I help?"

"Oh, you don't have to." Liane started to politely decline, but Kyle shook his head and smiled at her as he went to fetch another bowl.

"It's alright, I want to." he reassured her, setting the bowl down on the counter and picking up a pea pod, "Besides, I don't have anything else to do." Kyle, planning to spend the whole weekend with Cartman (because, contrary to popular belief, he liked being with him), had diligently finished up all his homework so that nothing could pull him away. Therefore, he truly did have absolutely nothing better to do than peel pea pods. He couldn't see Stan or Kenny because he didn't know where they were or what they were up to, and he didn't want to go home and deal with his mother complaining about Cartman just yet; besides, he wanted to be there when Cartman got back.

Even with his hands busy, his mind still managed to wonder worryingly. Kyle looked up at the clock on the wall, to find that Cartman had been gone for almost three quarters of an hour. _'Is he finished? Is he happy or upset? Is he hungry?' _Sighing, Kyle looked back down at the peas wearing a sombre expression; which Liane seemed to notice.

"Are you worried about Eric?" she asked.

_'Yes.'_ Kyle thought without needing to think about it, but unable to admit such a thing out loud he only shrugged nonchalantly. "Kind of. I guess." Liane nodded understandingly, and Kyle looked across to her to ask, "Are _you_ worried?"

Liane nodded again, affirmatively, much to Kyle's relief – to know that he wasn't alone in his worry was a nice feeling. "Of course I am. I know that Eric can…sometimes rub people the wrong way." Kyle would have traded _"sometimes" _with "_oftentimes"_, but allowed her to continue. "But he's a good boy when it matters, so I'm sure he'll probably be fine." Liane looked to him then, smiling a smile that Kyle knew had probably won beauty pageants in her youth. "Whatever the outcome, I'm proud of him."

Kyle smiled back at her. "I am too."

Liane's smile grew impossibly more radiant at that. "I'm glad you're with Eric, Kyle." she sighed happily, and turned her smile to the bowl of peas, "You're such a nice boy."

Kyle felt himself blushing, and bowed his head as he hunched his shoulders bashfully. "Not really, but…thank you."

"No, you are." Liane insisted, which was surprising for Kyle since he had rarely seen Liane being insistent about anything before, "You treat Eric so well, even though he can be hard to handle sometimes."

"You're telling me." Kyle grinned in a way that he hoped was jesting and friendly, and obviously succeeded since Liane laughed accordingly, so that the rest of the time spent together was relaxed and not at all awkward.

Peeling pea pods, Kyle lost track of time altogether in the peace of the moment, of the serene slide of pod slitting open and the tranquil trickle of peas into bowl. Bonding with his boyfriend's mother like that, Kyle felt like he had actually managed to accomplish something that day, like it hadn't just been wasted worrying uselessly about things he had no control over. When that moment ended though, it was because the front door opened, and in walked the person on their minds.

"Cartman!" Kyle called out to him, a little too loudly and excitedly for it to _not_ be obvious that he had been thinking relentlessly about him. He hurried out of the kitchen to greet him, relieved when he was met by an expression that looked far from upset. "How did it go?" he asked as he came to a halt in front of the brunet, just before he could barrel into him.

"I aced it, of course!" Cartman replied, grinning in a way that was wide and toothy and filled Kyle with respite, "They loved me. They asked questions, I answered them, then _I_ asked questions and _they_ answered them. We hit it off. There was chemistry."

"So you got the job?" Kyle asked hopefully.

"I'll eat my socks if I don't get a call in the next few days _begging_ me to take it." Cartman declared. He looked down to loosen his tie, and when he looked up again he did so quizzically. "Is that a pea pod?"

"Huh?" Kyle looked down at the green thing, forgotten in his grasp in his excitement, and quickly hid it behind his back, chuckling nervously. "Oh, uh, yeah. I was doing dinner with your mom."

Cartman smiled, toeing off his shoes by their heels and resting them alongside his briefcase at the foot of the coat stand. "Cool. I'm hungry."

Kyle smirked. "You're always hungry."

Cartman didn't bother to respond to that. He only bothered to lean down and kiss Kyle, but only shortly because his mother was watching them from the next room. "Alright," he said after they had parted, pushing Kyle out of the way and beaming at him playfully, cracking his knuckles and rolling up his sleeves as he passed him, "Make way for the _real_ chef, Jew."

With the _real_ chef helping, dinner preparations went faster, and the resulting dinner was unbelievably tasty. If nothing else, the Cartmans could cook. Cartman was none too taken with the idea of putting the same effort into washing the cutlery and crockery he had used though, so Kyle and Liane were left to do that while he went upstairs and changed into more comfortable clothes.

"Isn't that lovely?" Liane sighed contentedly, soaking and scrubbing plates in the bubbly sink, "My Eric got the job. I'm so proud."

Kyle hated to be a downer, but couldn't help saying, "Well, we're not one hundred percent sure he's got it. I mean, even if he has done as well as he said he has, someone else might come along and do better."

"Better than me? Not likely." Cartman smirked, returning to the kitchen wearing dark-blue boxers and a black t-shirt that read _'I went outside once. The graphics were good, but the gameplay sucked.' _His hair was sticking up oddly as though he had just taken off a hat, and Kyle knew that he had purposefully ruffled it that way. He only tried to look neat and prim when he was trying to trick people. It made his grubby self actually likeable, because at least then Kyle knew that he wasn't pretending to be something he wasn't.

"Confidence is good, Cartman. Arrogance is not." Kyle threw a towel over his shoulder and walked towards Cartman wielding a plate he had just dried. He thrust it towards him, answering his quizzical expression with, "You put away."

"Oh, come on, I just got back from a job interview!"

"No, you got back, and then you cooked, and then you ate dinner, and so now it's been a while since you got back from your job interview. You are adequately rested." Kyle shoved the plate unceremoniously into Cartman's hands, smirking at the way he scrabbled to keep a hold of it. "You put away."

Cartman pouted and made a petulant noise, which went unheeded as Kyle turned his back on him to return to drying the dishes. Cartman, when he shortly realised his childish sulking wasn't getting him anywhere, started to put away the plates Kyle passed to him as told without muttering any complaints; he stayed stoic and silent while Kyle and his mother chatted about everyday things. It felt nice to Kyle, all of them working together like one cleanly organism. Liane thought so too, since once they had finished she piped up, "Thank you for your help. It usually takes so long to cook and wash-up on my own."

"Sheesh, you make it sound like I never help." Cartman frowned.

_'That's because you don't.'_ Kyle replied in his mind, but not out loud since he didn't want to start a fight in front of Cartman's mother. The truth of the matter though was that Cartman had only cooked in order to show off, not to help. He didn't do things unless they benefitted him, like by making him impressive in Kyle's books. To Kyle, it was most impressive of all that someone could manage to be so consistently self-serving.

With everyone fed and everything clean, the three of them went into the living room, where they proceeded to have fun watching bad television. Liane sat on one end of the couch, Cartman sat in the middle, and Kyle sat cuddled next to him at the other end of the couch. He had taken his jeans off, to get comfortable, but he still refused to be so indecent in front of Cartman's mother without a blanket to hide his bare legs. Cartman had insisted it was fine, but Kyle had asked him whether _he_ would be okay with being only in underwear in front of _his_ mother, and that had shut him up. Still, Cartman's hand had wormed its way under the blanket, to run up and down Kyle's thigh in a way that both relaxed and excited him.

Mostly though, Kyle felt happy. With Cartman back in his sights, where he could keep an eye on him, all his worries had finally left him, and ever since Cartman had returned home he had been falling deeper and deeper into a state of Zen, where he breathed slow and calm, and his eyelids drooped, and he allowed his head to rest on Cartman's shoulder and rubbed his hand up and down Cartman's arm in a warming gesture, and when Cartman laid his cheek to rest atop his head, he didn't mind the weight and only felt all the happier for it.

"My, don't you two look a picture!" Liane giggled upon noticing them out of the corner of her eye, making Kyle's face flush.

Cartman only groaned. "Mom. Don't. You're embarrassing me."

_'__And me.'_ Kyle thought.

As Cartman had asked of her, Liane didn't. However, she _did_ keep glancing their way with a smile every now and again, and though she did it discreetly still the pair of them noticed. After her seventh glance they grew too weary of it to continue sitting with her, and so excused themselves and retired upstairs to Cartman's bedroom, where he flopped onto his bed in a way that reminded Kyle too much of a fat seal for him _not_ to laugh.

"Tired?" he asked, smiling at the defeated lump of Cartman on the mattress. Cartman groaned into the sheets in response, and Kyle chortled and decided to leave him in favour of picking up his phone from the chest of drawers. He unlocked it and went about writing a text to his mother, who hadn't seen him since the previous day, right after he had returned from school and just before he had gone to stay over at Cartman's for the weekend.

_Hi, mom. I was worried earlier today. Eric went for a job interview. He seems confident about it though, so I feel fine now. How are you?_

He sent it off, and hoped that she wouldn't dislike the fact that he had talked to her about Cartman too much. It was only fair – if he had to feel discomforted referring to him as Eric to her, then she had to feel discomforted hearing about him. Besides, he had done nothing but worry about him all day, so he had nothing else to tell her about.

"Are you texting your mom?" Cartman asked. Kyle looked up to see that he had lifted himself up from the bed slightly, holding himself up by his hands. He_ really_ looked like a seal in that position, _as well as_ Ariel when she was singing on that rock with waves crashing against it, so Kyle had no choice but to chuckle.

"Yeah. Just letting her know I'm still alive." Kyle went to sit down on the bed beside Cartman, his phone in his hand as he awaited her response. Cartman sidled up to him, to rest his head on his shoulder and look at the little glowing screen with him.

"Call her a bitch, from me." He grinned, and laughed as he earnt a shove from a frowning Kyle.

"Dude, she's not a bitch. And I can't say that. She can't stand you as it is, and I don't want you to make her hate you. She'll bar me from seeing you if you do."

"Then I'll just sneak into your room at night." Cartman replied simply. _'You already do.'_ Kyle thought, and he was about to say so before he was cut off by his phone's text-alert noise. He turned his attention back to it, and opened up the message from his mother. Her first sentence was a complete dismissal of the Cartman information she hadn't wanted to read, unsurprisingly.

_That's nice, Kyle. Like you were earlier, I'm worried. I miss you and can't wait to have you home. I love you, bubbie xx_

Kyle felt slightly guilty, reading that. He knew his mother loved him and hated to be separated from him, especially when it meant he was instead with what she deemed as a bad influence, the _"awful Cartman boy."_ It wasn't enough to spur him home though, so he decided to just write her a consoling text back.

_I miss and love you too, mom. I'll see you tomorrow night._

"You should have added _P.S. You're a bitch_." Cartman said as Kyle sent the text off, earning himself another shove that sent him falling back onto the bed. Kyle placed his phone at the foot of the bed and went to clamber on top of him, holding himself up by his hands at either side of Cartman's head.

"You're such an ass." he huffed, half-exasperated, half-amused. Smiling, he leant down and captured Cartman's lips in a kiss, which was returned with much vigour. Cartman brought his hands up to either side of Kyle's waist, where he shoved them under his t-shirt and ran them up his back. Kyle's spine arched at the touch, his crotch brushing against Cartman's thigh as he did. He moaned as the familiar sensation of lust ignited in his abdomen.

They continued to mouth at each other's lips, tongues probing and breath mingling, as Kyle slowly ground himself against Cartman, raising his hips and bringing them down in a gentle rhythm. They had become more languid in their movements recently, Kyle had begun to notice. Where they had once consumed each other with desperacy, they had started to devour each other as though they had all the time in the world to do so. They probably did, since they were still young – plenty of time to fool around, no need to go at it like there was no tomorrow. Moreover, it probably had something to do with the fact that they were growing closer. In the beginning they had just wanted to satisfy their physical needs as quickly and as much as possible, but lately they had just wanted to explore one another's bodies. Kyle found himself etching to memory the feel, taste and smell of Cartman, cataloguing the spice of his cologne, the salt of his sweat, and the sweetness of his touches.

Kyle had never before thought that Cartman could be gentle, but his hands were just that as they gripped him and flipped him onto his back. Kyle laughed as he went, and was still chortling even when Cartman's lips returned to his. He wound his arms around Cartman's neck and wound his legs around Cartman's waist. He pulled Cartman to him, enjoying the incredible warmth of his body heat. It was strange, Kyle thought, for such a cold person to be so warm. Then again, he was learning that Cartman perhaps wasn't so cold after all.

Cartman's hands at Kyle's back journeyed to his front, to tease his nipples, causing him to moan and Cartman to groan, "God, I wanna fuck you."

"You want to fuck God? What about me?" Kyle giggled.

"Shut up." Cartman chided, though he snickered as he did, "Why are you such a dumbass in bed?" Kyle couldn't help acting silly in bed. He got so very nervous with Cartman when the ambiance became less so friendly and jesting and more so intimate and serious, and it was all he could do to crack jokes to keep himself calm. If he didn't then he was sure he would just be a jittery mess. It wasn't that he was a shy person. He considered himself rather outgoing and relatively confident. He was, however, quite self-conscious, and to bare himself so entirely to someone else scared him. In the beginning of their relationship it had taken Cartman weeks to get Kyle nude, and longer yet to get him in his bed while in that state. Even then, after all the time they had been together, Kyle still worried that Cartman would suddenly become appalled by his body, and then he would end their relationship, and Kyle's new-found happiness along with it. To date though, that hadn't happened, and it didn't seem as though it would happen anytime soon as Cartman sat up and back on his heels, tugged Kyle's t-shirt over his head, and gazed down at him like he had struck gold. Even so – even being admired so indiscreetly – Kyle couldn't help squirming.

"Quit looking at me, fatass," he grumbled, "Just kiss me already."

"What is this? Touch but don't look?" Cartman chuckled, but he obliged nonetheless. With his eyes closed and his lips back to his, Kyle stopped squirming and relaxed. He hadn't put Cartman off, so he managed to calm down and just enjoy the moment. Even when Cartman pushed a finger under his waistband and hooked it around there to tug his boxer-briefs down and off, he didn't mind. What he _did_ mind, however, was that Cartman was still clothed. Where Kyle was self-conscious, Cartman was insecure.

Kyle tugged and pulled at Cartman's t-shirt, urging him to remove it. "I want to feel you too." he said, pressing a comforting kiss to the place where jaw met ear.

Cartman grumbled disdainfully, but Kyle's kisses fought strong against his insecurities until they had pulverized them – only temporarily, of course – and so Cartman gave in and sat up to pull his t-shirt off. He fell back onto Kyle almost the second he had thrown it away to land on the floor somewhere though, so that Kyle couldn't see. Kyle was fine with that though – one step at a time would do. It was a big improvement from the start of their relationship where Cartman had refused to part with whatever was clothing his torso, no matter how much Kyle had begged.

Kyle ran his hands up and down Cartman's body, feeling over his soft rolls and actually enjoying it. Cartman wasn't obese anymore – just a chubby kind of fat, so he was soft and squishy and cuddly. As Cartman parted the kiss to nuzzle Kyle's cheek and kiss his neck, Kyle buried his head into the crook of Cartman's shoulder and inhaled. He had grown to love Cartman's scent. It was a strong, familiar musk that recalled memories and reminded him of home.

"Want to do it?" Cartman asked, his breath hot at Kyle's ear. He bit down on the lobe of it, making Kyle gasp and shudder. He squeezed Cartman tighter to him and nodded into his shoulder.

"Yeah." he replied. That was all the permission Cartman needed before he was off rummaging in his bedside table drawer for lube and condoms; meanwhile, Kyle rolled over and got up on his hands and knees, his heart beating faster and faster as the anticipation grew and grew. As Cartman returned to him, and pressed a thick finger into him, and then another, Kyle lost himself deeper and deeper into a messy tangle of pain and pleasure.

"Do you want me?" Cartman breathed against his nape, his bare chest pressed against his naked back as his fingers prepped him, "Do you _need_ me?" Kyle shivered at the words.

_'Yes.'_ he thought. "Fuck you." he said.

Cartman laughed, pressed a kiss to his shoulder, pressed a third lubricated finger into him. "I want you. I want to wreck your ass. I want to fuck you until you're shaking." Kyle shook, his knees almost buckling.

_'I want that too.'_ he thought. "Just put it in already." he said.

Cartman kissed his shoulder again, his neck, his jaw, his cheek, leaving Kyle tingling delightfully in each and every one of those places. "My pleasure." When Cartman removed his fingers, Kyle shivered with anticipation.

_'Mine too.'_ he thought. "_Ah!_" he moaned as Cartman pushed his way inside him. The stretch was equal parts afflicting and amazing. Kyle was shaking so hard that he thought it miraculous he was still up on his hands and knees.

Once Cartman had pushed himself all the way in, he stayed still, no matter how eager he was to get moving, to allow Kyle to adjust. He kissed his shoulder and neck and jaw and cheek again, reassuringly, tenderly. "Are you alright?" he asked, whispered the inquiry against the shell of his ear.

Kyle nodded, since words were lost to him by that point. He pushed back, pushing Cartman deeper, making him exhale a shuddery breath and swear against his skin. Cartman stuttered into thrusting then, slow at first but gradually gaining confidence and getting faster the more Kyle seemed as fine as he had claimed to be. Kyle moaned, long and loud, "Oh, fuck. Fuck me, Eric."

"Gonna fuck you like it's my job." Cartman promised, kissing his neck clumsily and hastily.

"You need an interview to get that job." Kyle smirked.

"Fuck you." Cartman replied, making him laugh. His laughter subsided as he descended into helpless moans again, Cartman grinding into him at an angle that drove him crazy. "You like that?" he asked breathlessly.

Kyle hummed happily to show that he did. "Yeah. Like that. Fuck me."

Cartman did, thrusting into him harder and faster. "What do you _think_ I'm doing?"

"A terrible job." Kyle laughed, nervously jesting again, and finding any and all humour referencing what Cartman had done that day incredibly hilarious. "Ouch!" he yelped as his teasing earnt him a pinch on the nipple, and then, "Oh, shit, that was good. Do it again."

"This?" Cartman pinched his nipple again, rolled it hard between his index finger and thumb.

"Ah, shit, yeah." Kyle said breathlessly. It was Cartman's turn to laugh then.

"What are you, a masochist?"

"And you're a sadist, so fuck me rougher…_Ah_, yeah, like that!"

"Like this?" Cartman asked, curling tighter around him as he thrust like Kyle had told him to. The headboard creaked, the mattress springs squeaked, and Kyle cried out as Cartman hit a spot inside him that made him feel like fireworks were exploding within his abdomen.

"_Ah_, fuck, yeah, like that! Eric, please! _Ah_, fuck, _Eric_!" Kyle crying out Cartman's first name made him fuck harder, rougher, faster, and thrusting like that made Kyle cry out Cartman's first name, which got him fucking even harder, even rougher, even faster. It was a cyclical process, the continuation of which had them both coming loudly, Kyle almost screaming as he quaked with pleasure, Cartman groaning loudly into his shoulder in a way that sounded blessed and tortured all at once.

When they were spent, Kyle finally gave in to his shuddering calves and collapsed onto the bed, too blissed-out to be bothered by the fact that he landed right on the wet spot. Cartman slumped onto his back, panting like a racehorse, and the afterglow was too wonderful for Kyle to mind the extra weight. Despite his weariness, Cartman managed to get up the energy to proudly announce, "You just got fucked by an employed person."

Cartman got to experience the feel of being laid out atop a person shaking with laughter as Kyle burst helplessly into it, the majority of which he tried to hide in his pillow as it bubbled up and out of his mouth. "Fuck you, you haven't got the job yet!"

"Just you wait, Jew." Cartman replied confidently, not an inkling of doubt evident on his grinning face, "Just you wait."

Since he very much liked that confident look of Cartman's – how it both aggravated and charmed him – and didn't want to see it wiped from his face anytime soon, Kyle started up doing that hoping malarkey again. While Cartman changed the bed sheets and Kyle washed himself, he did something so dependent and chancing as hope, for he could do nothing more. When he put his clothes back on and went under the covers with Cartman, and when he wished Cartman goodnight and accompanied it with a kiss, and when he snuggled up to Cartman's chest and got an arm laid across him in return, he did it all whilst hoping. He hoped until he fell asleep with Cartman snoring into his hair, and then he hoped some more in his dreams.

As Kyle had expected, hoping didn't help.

A couple of days later, when Cartman got a call telling him thank you but no thank you in regard to the job, Kyle thought that it was very good of him, the way he sat on the couch, listening to Cartman ranting and raving about unfairness and bureaucracy and God and all manner of other things unrelated to his rejection, watching him pace the living room floor before collapsing onto the couch beside Kyle when his rage was replaced with remorse, and Kyle felt that it was very nice of him, the way he took up Cartman's hand in his and patted it, and reassured him that it was their loss for not hiring him, and told him to get right back out there and that, no, he didn't have to eat his socks because no one but himself was holding him to that spur-of-the-moment declaration he had made.

"I can't believe I have to go through all that shit again though." Cartman said, groaning and running a hand down his face as he imagined having to find a job opening and research the position and figure out questions to ask and pretend he was enthusiastic all over again.

"Same here." Kyle grimaced. He had more worrying ahead of him.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**You know, I've learnt something today. Or rather, from writing this. Things don't always turn out the way you plan them to. For example, when I started this story, I did so because I just thought, _"Hey, I want to write a little snippet where Kyle wears Cartman's t-shirt, because that's a cute image." _And so, I wrote that...and kept writing...and kept writing...and kept writing...and then this whole plotline came out. What? What happened? When did a snippet become a story? Where am I? I don't really understand what I just wrote. I must have been possessed or something. Help me.  
Also, my headcanon is that Cartman likes to wear comedic t-shirts with references to movies and games and memes and his junk. It brings me joy and laughter like you wouldn't believe.  
****Thank you for reading this...thing...whatever it is. I hope you enjoyed doing so as much as I enjoyed writing it...while possessed by a Kyman demon.**

**Disclaimer: South Park does not belong to me, but to its creators, Trey Parker and Matt Stone. Ariel does not belong to me, but to her creator, Walt Disney Pictures.**


End file.
